Rumors and Realizations

After all, Batman that night had been none other than Avery himself, and the butler was… well.

Avery gazed steadily at his employer, slowly arching one eyebrow.

To express his disapproval of the boss flirting with the staff during work hours, Avery turned back toward the kitchen, intent on sneaking some of Bruce's least favorite broccoli into his breakfast.

But he barely made it two steps before a certain detective caught on and wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him in place.

Avery: "Let go."

Bruce: "Give me one good reason."

Avery: "Aren't you afraid Dick will see us?"

Bruce: "He'll find out eventually. Are you?"

Avery exhaled slowly, prying Bruce's hand off finger by finger before replying, "Only afraid we'll set a bad example for the kid."

Bruce chuckled. "Impossible. For all we know, that kid probably had girls after him back in kindergarten."

Avery raised an eyebrow. "Or you could ask young Master Dick if there are any boys at school after him."

With that, he turned around and headed into the kitchen, ready to load Bruce's breakfast with extra broccoli.

Bruce shook his head, settling back down with the paper.

Neither of them noticed that, right then, Dick had come downstairs, just in time to see his adoptive father and the butler flirting with each other.

Dick: "...?"

For a moment, he stood there, visibly confused, on the verge of saying something, then seemed to think better of it. Resigning, he took his seat at the table.

Breakfast was baked lobster mac and cheese—loaded with, predictably, an excess of broccoli.

Bruce loved lobster mac but didn't care for broccoli. However, as a new father still feeling the need to maintain a certain image in front of his newly adopted son, he kept his face stoic as he finished every piece.

Dick, also no fan of broccoli, hesitated with his fork and knife. In the end, he left every piece of broccoli until the last bite, gulping it all down in one go.

This clearly established the food chain hierarchy of the household.

After breakfast, Dick was getting ready for school. Originally, Bruce had hoped Dick would take a few days off to fully recover from the trauma of the recent kidnapping. But Dick insisted he felt fine and had grown tired of the dull, quiet days in the empty mansion, determined to return to school.

Bruce's rare early wake-up that morning was, therefore, all thanks to Dick. Since it was Dick's first day attending school as his son, Bruce figured it was only right to personally drop him off.

On the way, Bruce handed Dick over to his teacher and exchanged a few polite words with the principal before hurrying off, slipping away just as the media arrived. Given the previous day's uproar, Bruce needed to make a public appearance to stabilize rumors and prevent further sensationalism—something he'd already planned out carefully.

The press conference venue had been secured the day before, and Bruce wasted no time heading there after dropping Dick off. By the time he arrived, the location was already packed with reporters who had gotten wind of the event. Fortunately, Bruce, fully aware of his own appeal, had hired hundreds of temporary security guards to keep the crowd under control.

Without this precaution, Bruce likely would have been mobbed by the crowd, ensnared on all sides.

Avery, choosing not to be in the spotlight, opted to stand in a less crowded corner, observing the scene quietly from a distance.

He watched as Bruce stepped up onto the red carpet-draped platform, assuming the poised stance of someone important, both hands firmly placed on the edges of the table as he addressed the microphones in front of him with the carefully crafted words he had in mind.

In fact, Bruce had said much of this to the Gotham PD just yesterday, so it came smoothly, his replies calm and reasoned, even in the face of sharp questions from the reporters. There were also some who aimed more pointed, malicious questions. Bruce didn't have to respond; highly professional security guards had already escorted them out, leaving the room silent and the rest of the reporters instantly more agreeable.

Meanwhile, at school, during a bathroom break, Dick overheard two teachers washing their hands and talking about the rumor that their "precious Brucie" might be romantically involved with Batman.

Dick: "..."

His hand froze just before pushing open the stall door. His expression shifted as he mulled this over, recalling what he'd seen that morning.

His adoptive father's hand around Avery's waist, their close faces, and their exchanged smiles—too close for a normal friendship or master-servant relationship.

Inside the bathroom stall, Dick's gaze sharpened once more.

Over time, the Batman rumor died down. For most Gotham citizens, who'd barely seen a glimpse of Batman, he was largely irrelevant. Had it not been for that one publicized incident, many still would've dismissed him as an urban legend.

As the New Year's bells were about to chime, Alfred, back from his holiday, returned to Gotham.

It went like this.

Well-accustomed to the house, Dick was using the banister to practice his acrobatic skills, sliding from the top floor down to the first, landing directly in front of Alfred as he opened the door and entered.

Alfred: "..."

Dick: "..."

The old butler with the suitcase in hand, blinked his eyes and quickly deducing this was the young master he'd heard about. Dick, likewise recognizing the figure his adoptive father had mentioned, immediately blushed, realizing how he'd just been caught.

With cool composure, Alfred greeted him, "A pleasure to meet you, Master Richard. I must say, that was quite impressive."

Dick's eyes brightened.

But then, Alfred added with a smile, "Though perhaps it's a bit rough on the banister. You might consider using the stairs next time."

Dick's expression fell a little.

It was at this moment that Avery made his appearance. After an intense evening, he still had a faint mark on his neck, a kiss mark he hadn't noticed due to its placement.